I Started Therapy

I started therapy.

I’ve always been curious about therapy but finally worked myself to do it. As a millenial, the challenge wasn’t the stigma that comes with therapy. It was more like, “Does my insurance cover this? How do I even get in contact with my insurance pollicy?”

It was only when my co-worker told me that our employer covers 10 sessions that I started looking more into it. It still took me couple months to go through an app to figure out how to create an account using my insurance.

Before the therapy session, I had to fill out an intake form that asked me a bunch of questions about me. Who was my support system? Anything about my identity that is important to talk about? Any significant childhood experiences? What are my goals?

I filled them out pretty quickly because honestly… it was kind of tedious to do them. I went into therapy with 90% nervousness and 10% excitement. The nervousness was not even the therapy itself but the fact that I was going to be interacting with a stranger (aka the therapist).

I didn’t expect much to happen on the first day. But, yes, I cried. I cried on the first day. I don’t even think we got “deep.” I just introduced myself and I basically started crying. Weird. Talking about myself made me cry. Or, maybe it’s the fact that I am 8 months postpartum and emotions are still high? Or, maybe I have so much anxiety balled up in me that I needed a stranger to release it on to? Or, maybe I’m just an emotional person!? Although, my Myers Briggs personality type says otherwise. I’m ISTJ — I’m a (T)hinker and not a (F)eeler.

Anyways, I was recommended to try journaling. I have a physical journal that I’ve had since 2020 that I’m not even 1/4 of the way through. I used to write in a diary all the time as a child, but maybe writing with pen and paper is not the most ideal for me as of now.

I didn’t have any goals going into therapy, but by the end of the 50 minute session. There was a clear recurring theme that I need to work on.